


Anxiety Attack

by Alterius



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Love Confessions, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 17:48:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16728075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alterius/pseuds/Alterius
Summary: So maybe they were having a moment and maybe—just maybe!—Prompto didn't realize that blurting out that he's had a huge crush on Gladio since he was like sixteen would be a bit of a shock.





	Anxiety Attack

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lascivus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lascivus/gifts).



> Will I write anything without Prompto? No, probably not. Don't hold your breath because I ship Prompto with basically everyone and he's the funnest character to write.
> 
> Anyways, this was written at the request of my favorite person, who also read it over before posting. Big thanks to him for saving me from completely embarrassing myself with terrible typos. The prompt was, again: _I just told you I liked you but now I’m shy and say “never mind, forget it” and why are you looking at me like that? (with promtio :3c)_
> 
>  
> 
> I have anxiety, so I'm basing Prompto's partially off of my experiences with it.

He feels like a complete  _ idiot _ , but the words are already out of his mouth and he can see the look Gladio’s giving him, the silence he’s fallen into that drives Prompto’s anxiety up the wall and threatens to drown him in a sea of self consciousness that was  _ confidence _ for a split second there. 

Prompto takes a breath and when he exhales, he feels like his heart’s ready to burst for all the wrong reasons. The look of utter disbelief on Gladio’s face doesn’t sit well with Prompto and the looming threat of rejection has him wishing that his lungs would collapse right there, to keep him from living through the next minute of the mortifying mess he’d created. 

Gods, why did he have to be such a moron? Why had he spilled his guts before he gave himself enough time to realize that having a  _ moment  _ with someone didn’t necessarily mean they were at all interested in someone like  _ him _ ?

He tears his gaze away from Gladio, trying to stave off the anxiety attack he knows is coming on by the pressure building in his chest, like he’s on the verge of suffocating. When he next takes a breath, it’s a gasp this time and when he exhales, it sounds like a sob as Gladio just  _ stares _ at him.  _ Gods _ , he can’t take this. Why can’t he just turn him down already?!

All Prompto wants to do is push aside the awkward atmosphere, go back to what they were doing before, but the watery laugh that slips unbidden from his lips only serves to worsen things.

What joins the flood of anxiety is guilt as he watches Gladio’s eyebrows knit together in what can only be called confusion. 

Why was he always so  _ stupid _ ? Why did he think someone like  _ Gladio  _ would want to do something like date  _ him _ , of all people, when they  _ both _ spent every waking moment with two amazing guys like Noctis and Ignis?

“N-Nevermind, forget it.”

He swivels around on his heel, tries to escape as fast as his feet will take him, making a mental note that stargazing—no matter how  _ romantic  _ it seemed—was a terrible time to blurt out a confession. Sure, it was  _ really  _ nice to stand shoulder to shoulder with him, fingers barely brushing, just close enough to hold his hand if he wanted to, but whatever fire Prompto had felt from those brief touches  _ clearly  _ wasn’t mutual. 

And gods, why  _ would  _ it be? Gladio was _ so _ out of his league. 

But he’s barely turned around, barely taken a  _ step _ before a hand clamps down on his wrist, preventing him from walking away from what was no doubt turning out to be the worst mistake of Prompto’s life. 

Prompto takes a deep, shuddering breath, blinking away the tears that sit at the edges of his eyes, born from the boundless anxiety that threatens to consume him. The worst possibilities are highlighted in his mind, reminding him that  _ maybe _ Gladio will think it’s  _ gross _ , thinking of him like that. Maybe he’ll want to have as little contact with him as possible now and who could blame him? Who the  _ hell _ would wanna share a bed with a guy that’s been harboring a crush on them for literal  _ years _ ?

“Say it again.”   
  
Oh  _ gods _ , did Gladio really want him to embarrass himself  _ twice  _ in the same conversation?  _ Really _ ?

That’s  _ impossible _ , though, because the minute Prompto opens his mouth to speak, it’s not words that come out. What comes out of his mouth is a pathetic whine that verges on a sob, like he’s about to crack and break beneath a weight that he himself has created.  _ Astrals _ , why couldn’t he have just let him go? Why couldn’t Gladio just let him leave? Why couldn’t he give him the chance to at least  _ try _ and pretend that he hadn’t ruined a perfectly good friendship by being an idiot? 

Better yet, why had he let  _ himself  _ think for even a split second that  _ maybe  _ these feeling were mutual? How could he  _ delude _ himself like that?

“Woah, hey,” Gladiolus says, though it does nothing to keep his anxiety from spilling over the dam. It does precious little to dissuade the feeling of being  _ boxed in _ , like invisible walls were closing in on him more with every second. Oh  _ gods _ , before long he was gonna be a Prompto  _ Pancake _ …!

“Prompto, I need you to calm down.”

Gods, he only wishes that he could because just one more breath and it feels as though he’s left the eye of the storm and fallen head first into the worst of it. He’s hyperventilating now, breath coming out short and harsh because the pressure in his chest demands more oxygen than his lungs have capacity for. 

“I— I just—”

“Hey, I’m not mad,” he says as Prompto finally turns back to look at him, expecting anger and finding none, just as Gladio promises. The grip on his wrist loosens and part of Prompto wants to run the hell away, to hide at Noct’s side and hope he’s willing to let him stay there until this blows over. 

And it will. It  _ will _ pass, won’t it?

“I-I just—” he tries again, but he’s  _ blubbering  _ now and by the  _ gods _ is it hard to be anxious and embarrassed at the same time in front of such a strong man, who probably thinks the worst of him for acting like a little kid confessing to a grown man. “I thought—”

“You thought I liked you?” 

There it is. He doesn’t even need to say it now, the rejection is so obvious it strengthens his desire to  _ escape _ , but what’s the _ point _ ? Gladio’s already standing there, staring at him, unfortunately aware of the fact that Prompto is on the verge of tears, too overwhelmed by his own  _ stupidity _ to do much more than try to avoid them falling. 

He doesn’t trust himself to speak again with hiccuping two words into it like he has the last two times he tried, instead nodding his misery. Why can’t Ramuh just strike him down and get it over with? That’s where this was heading, wasn’t it?

“Well, I do.” 

“Wh— What?”

Prompto can’t believe his ears. Surely he heard him wrong or this is part of some kind of cruel joke that would be  _ totally  _ out of character for Gladio, but then again, maybe he just doesn’t know Gladio all that well, since he’s Noct’s friend and they never really hung out together until—

“I  _ do  _ like you,” Gladio says, making it a  _ little  _ hard to argue this time, though Prompto spends the next few seconds trying to convince himself that he  _ must _ be thinking  _ platonically  _ or something. The  _ bro  _ kind of like that Prompto definitely isn’t talking about, but he can brush this off if that’s what Gladio’s thinking, right? Oh, thank the  _ Astrals _ for showing him this  _ hint  _ of mercy. He’d never ask for  _ anything _ again—

“You’ve got a nice ass.”

_ Holy shit. _

It’s such a  _ stupid  _ thing to say out of the blue that Prompto can’t hold back a wobbly laugh, shaking his body and sending a few strays tears leaking down his cheeks. 

“Dude, serious— seriously?” 

He catches on a word, has to repeat it and finish it proper, but a weak smile is spreading across his face for what seems like the first time in an age. His anxiety shuffles to the side in favor a sharp spike of immeasurable  _ glee _ , stifled only by the constant, niggling doubt that this can’t  _ possibly  _ be real. 

Was Gladio being serious right now? Did he  _ actually  _ **_like_ ** him? 

_ Him _ ? Of all people?

“Thought, uh... Thought you were into girls.”

This time, Gladio laughs and Prompto takes notice of the way his hand eases from his wrist to hold Prompto’s  _ hand _ , like he’d wanted so desperately when they were staring up at the sky. It’s gentle and grounding, helping to pull Prompto back down to earth instead of floating up in the air with the irrational illusions he’d been cooking up of a Gladio that would be quicker to make fun of his feelings than to ever  _ return _ them.

“Could say the same about you with the way you get around Cindy.”

Prompto can’t help but smile and this time, when he speaks, he voices comes out clearer. 

“You jealous, big guy?”

“Hell yeah, I am.”

It should be impossible how Prompto’s smile widens, yet nothing could match the way he feels right now. The intense, infallible happiness that comes with his affections being returned for the first time in his life. Somebody actually  _ liked  _ him of all people. Gladiolus Amicitia, of all people, liked the mess of a person that  _ he _ was.

“Guess I don’t need to be anymore, huh?”

It’s Gladio who smiles, this time, as Prompto lets loose something akin to a giggle.

“Guess not.” 


End file.
